


face your fear

by DrowningInStarlight



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Magnus Archives, Fluff, Gen, Happy Murder Family, Team Bonding, that's right baby! avatar au!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 15:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight
Summary: An assortment of insights into the lives of Hamid al-Tahan, avatar of the Desolation, Sasha Rackett, avatar of the Dark, Bertie MacGuffingham, avatar of the Slaughter, and their leader: Zolf Smith, avatar of the Vast.





	face your fear

**Author's Note:**

> started writing this, had a breakdown. bon apple teeth.

The night Hamid al-Tahan met Zolf Smith, there was a cult meeting in a ruined church in Battersea.

That was incidental, really. The cult in question wasn't anything special, just a group of boring people who had dealt with a midlife crisis by trying to worship an eldritch god. They'd chosen Cthulu ( _how depressingly unoriginal,_ Hamid thought) and had broken into the church after hours for a little arcane ritualing. Just the normal cult stuff, nothing inventive. Hamid normally looked forward to this kind of stuff, but even he had to admit he was bored. 

Of course, the good part hadn't started yet. He was still outside, hidden, watching the cultists scurrying to and fro.The good part would begin later, when he began his own fiery sermon. He smiled at the thought of the devastation that would rain upon this place. The rain sizzled and steamed around him as he stood in the shadows and watched the cultists set up. Candles, chalk, eyes sparkling with the thrill of the forbidden, they were exactly like every other little cult he'd ever seen. Maybe some of them would survive. It happened, sometimes, people who'd go spill their story before the Eye or die alone and terrified. It was an occupational hazard of this particular game, the imprecision. But he was deadly certain that not one of those bright eyed idiots would leave unmarked. That was the joy of it. 

Except there was something wrong, and not only the sheer dullness of this church. He had goosebumps on his arms, and he was almost shivering. But Hamid _didn't_ get cold.

He drew back further into the shadow of the alcove, scanning the rest of the church. It didn't feel like the Forsaken's brand of cold. He didn't feel lonely, just like...

He couldn't breathe. He scrabbled for a moment, grabbed at the wall. 

There was an amused huff of breath from behind him. He spun sharply to see someone who was definitely not one of the cultists. He was only a little taller than Hamid, a tattoo of a trident curling up his forearm, half lit in the dancing shadows of the hallway. There was something weird about that tattoo, it seemed to shimmer and... 

Hamid grabbed the wall again, closing his eyes. He felt like the floor had shifted underneath him, swaying. The air smelled suddenly of the sea. 

_Enough_ , he thought, reaching for the fire inside him, _I'm not one of your toys--_

He opened his eyes, and his palms were alight. The fire reflected in the other man's eyes, steady and unafraid. Neither of them moved. 

It was the cultists who broke the silent stand off. 

"Hey, what's that light?" one of them shouted. 

"Oh, I don't know," another one said. "Wanna go check it out?" 

Trident Guy shifted, and Hamid watched him carefully. "Unless you want to kill them all now," he said in a low voice, "We might want to take this outside." 

"Fine," Hamid agreed. He pointedly didn't look at the guy's tattoo. "Please, after you." 

"Oh, such a gentleman," he grumbled, but moved off down the hallway. Hamid followed, a deliberate two paces behind, quietly closing the church door behind them. 

Outside, the glow of the city was turning the sky dull orange. Hamid didn't feel cold any more, but he still kept his hands alight. He wasn't going to let the Vast think they were the only ones with tricks up their sleeves. 

"So," Hamid said. "What are _you_ doing here?" 

"Same as you, I reckon." 

"Then you'd better try somewhere else. This place is claimed by the Desolation." 

"Oh, really?" the man began, but then seemed to check himself. "Whatever, fine. I'm just passing through anyway." 

"Good," Hamid said, a little nonplussed. He'd been ready, looking forward to, a territory battle. This guy looked like he could handle himself, and it had been _so_ long since Hamid had had a good fight. "I-- good. Well, I'll just be getting on with it then, shall I?" 

From inside the church, painfully off key chanting began. 

"That does sound like your cue," the man agreed. He looked at Hamid appraisingly, then seemed to come to a decision. "Okay. See you, Devastation." 

Then he was gone. 

Hamid burnt the church, and spitefully ignored the way his heart just wasn't in it, thrown off by the appearance and then disappearance of the void. 

He didn't think he'd ever see the trident guy again. But then two weeks later, the man had turned up again. He introduced himself as Zolf Smith, servant of the Endless Nothing, and offered Hamid a job. 

Well, it wasn't quite a job. Hamid would never have agreed to work for the Vast. It was more of an agreement. They'd leave each other alone, not interfere with territory, but sometimes... work _together._

"It makes sense," Zolf said. "Everyone has their cults, their, ha, _families_ \--"

Hamid was aware, of course, of the Lukases, the Racketts, the Fairchilds. The cult of the Lightless Flame, who he'd never got along with. From Zolf's bitter look, Hamid guessed he wasn't in favour with the Fairchilds either.

"--why shouldn't we have that?" 

"Well, they'd murder us for trying to compete with them," Hamid pointed out. 

"Thought you Desolation lot were in it for a good time, not a long time."

Hamid had to admit, it did sound enticing. He did so like having fun, and his normal methods were starting to loose their shine, just a little. So messy, too. Not really his style. This arrangement had a lot of potential. 

"Why me?" he had to ask. 

Zolf shrugged. "Didn't look scared. Everyone's so frustrating when they're terrified." 

"Well, I haven't been afraid in years," he said. "I'm in. When do we begin?" 

___ 

Zolf had given Hamid free rein to recruit anyone he wanted, and Bertie had been an obvious choice. He'd somewhat fallen out of touch with his old friends since he'd let the flames take him, but Bertie had, honestly, never seemed to notice. He was always far too busy using his mighty, old fashioned blade to worship his own violent god. He wasn't hard for Hamid to track down, and he joined the same way he did everything: without thought, doubt, or hesitation. 

Zolf and Bertie hated each other at first sight, and the part of Hamid that craved destruction revelled in it. 

___ 

Sasha had just sort of... happened. She never talked about her past, but Hamid knew she was on the run from her family. The Racketts, followers of the Dark for generation upon generation, the rumours said, living far beneath London where the sun didn't reach. Sasha herself just showed up one night, and never really left. 

She and Zolf had their quiet understanding, and she was more than happy to cloak them all in her beloved darkness, hiding in the shadows that blurred her edges.

Not that she watched passively from the sidelines-- very much the opposite. Hamid could still feel the heat of the dark fire they'd created together, burning an entire village while the inhabitants cowered: preferring to burn alive in their beds than face what might lurk in the night. Zolf had been right. Together, they were _glorious._

___

They stayed in London until they got bored. Then they moved on. 

___ 

Zolf had always known there'd be consequences for this. If he was being honest, he didn't know why he'd done it. Forming a group made up of the avatars of the Fears that had been at war since before time? Even in his head it didn't sound like a good idea. 

So why was he here, pleasantly drunk on a sofa in a run down Parisian hotel with a follower of the Dark on one arm and Desolation on the other?

Bertie was lying out on the worn carpet in the middle of the room. He was either asleep, or doing a really convincing fake snore. Sasha was ostensibly curled up into herself, but he'd noticed that over the course of the evening she'd also curled against his shoulder. They both pretended not to notice. Hamid was making zero pretense, however, cuddling into Zolf's side with no hesitation. To anyone else, his skin would be too hot to touch, but the bitter cold of the void easily staved off the heat. Hamid and Zolf, they cancelled each other out. But...

Zolf had been selfish, bringing them together. Selfish and bored and wary. He'd heard rumours from the Fairchilds, whispers of something coming, something _bad_. He didn't know what, and he knew the Fairchilds wouldn't tell him even if they did. He'd always been a bit of an outcast, and that had probably played into this... whole thing. _I can do this too_ , he'd wanted to say, _you're not the only ones with a family. It's not just me standing alone against whatever's coming._

But he hadn't counted on learning to... care about these people. And all he'd really done was make them targets. 

He was entirely too sober for this.

"I should leave," he said into the quiet room. Sasha turned her head to stare at him. No one had bothered to turn the lights on, her face was pale against the shadows. 

"Noo," Hamid said, snuggling closer into his side. "You're comfy." 

He hadn't meant just getting up off this sofa. He should _leave_ , let the group disband, go back to wandering. Maybe the Fairchilds would claim him, punish him as a traitor. It didn't matter, as long as it wasn't here. 

Sasha was still staring at him. She didn't say anything, but he could tell she knew what he'd meant.

"It'd be better for you if we all left," Zolf plunged on. "Safer." 

" _No_ ," Hamid said sleepily. "In it for a good time, not a long time, remember?" He shuffled over so he was right in Zolf's lap, face hidden in Zolf's chest. Zolf caught his eye, for just a moment. Maybe the halfling was overly ostentatious and too inclined to just burn all of his problems, but he wasn't _stupid._ Zolf knew Hamid's every move was calculated. 

He knew, but he still let Hamid win.

"Stay, Zolf," Hamid mumbled. 

Zolf didn't respond, but he put his arm around Hamid and tried to ignore Sasha's gaze burning into him. 

He waited until Hamid was really asleep to carefully get up. He got all the way into the hallway outside the room before Sasha caught up with him. She peeled off the wall like just another shadow.

"I'm not gonna stop you, if you really want to go," she said, before he could speak. "We're not a cult. We're a..."

"Yeah." He didn't want to look at her. He didn't want to leave. "I know." 

" _I_ won't stop you," she carried on. "But I'll wake up Hamid. You know what he's like, reckon he'd burn down all of Paris to find you." 

"You don't think I'd be able to take him in a fight?" 

She shrugged. "'sides the point. You'd never fight _Hamid._ "

"So what are you saying?" He pushed his sleeve up and rubbed his tattoo absently. 

"I'm saying, don't go." 

"I'm trying to protect you." 

"From what, Zolf? Bit late for that, the monsters already got us!" 

"You don't understand. There's something happening. The Fairchilds won't tell me anything, I'm not even sure what they know, but it's going to be bad. Like, apocalypse bad."

"Oh yeah, 'cause you'll be protecting us so much more by dumping us, then," she hissed. 

"I'm not saying-- There won't-- I don't think there'll _be_ any protection, not from this."

"Then we'll, I dunno," she carefully didn't make eye contact. "Die together, or something." 

_Oh._ "Sasha," he said quietly. 

"Look, just stay til morning, at least. Say goodbye to Hamid, or he really will burn down Paris and--" she was still staring at the ground, but the darkness had started to pool around her feet. 

" _Sasha_. I don't-- I--"

She looked up, and he saw the night sky in her scared eyes. The Dark and the Vast were only ever two steps removed from each other, really. He was suddenly reminded of those nights far out in the open ocean, when there was nothing but the reflection of the starless sky in the water all around. His tattoo stung with the cold of the void. 

"Listen, I'll stay. Just for a bit, okay?" he added quickly, as her face relaxed in the way that was as close as Sasha came to beaming. "Just for a few weeks, until I've worked something out..." 

Even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true. He was in deep, for better or worse. It would almost certainly be for worse, but he'd known _that_ all along.

They'd have to talk about it in the morning. Hamid would want an explanation, Sasha would probably yell at him before slinking off to the roof... He couldn't find it in himself to dread it. He let Sasha lead the way back into the living room.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this carried on right up to Cairo, with Grizzop as an avatar of the Hunt and Azu as an avatar of the Web (as anti-Lonely as you could get). Wilde is an avatar of the Spiral. 
> 
> come chat w me on tumblr @drowninginstarlights!


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